


Interstices

by SeraBee



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22817230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeraBee/pseuds/SeraBee
Summary: The spaces between what we see on screen. Hopefully a series of inbetween moments to accompany the current storyline and fill in the gaps.
Relationships: Charity Dingle/Vanessa Woodfield
Comments: 27
Kudos: 283





	1. Somewhere on the other side of this wide night and the distance between us, I am thinking of you.

The clock on the wall has stopped.

All around her, the hospital is buzzing with activity, but for some reason, she can't stop staring at the clock. This place is painfully familiar. She could close her eyes and tell you in exact detail about each painting on the wall, what options the coffee machine sold and how many of the uncomfortable, plastic chairs were lined up against the wall. How many times had she been here? How many of her loved ones had she sat with and watched suffer?

If she closes her eyes, she knows she will see their faces: Noah, Sarah, Debbie... Vanessa. So she doesn't close her eyes, doesn't even blink. She just stares at the clock. She can't remember if it was broken the last time she was here or if it had even here at all. It's the one thing she hadn't noticed before and now it seems to be taunting her, showing her just how fickle time can be. How you can think you have all the time in the world but without any warning, time can just stop. 

It's not like she hasn't had enough reminders, but she always seemed to forget.

In the weeks after the stabbing, she had been terrified of losing Vanessa, had proposed and barely left her side during her recovery. But life had a funny way of distracting you from the important things and the wedding had eventually been put on the back burner. Then she'd walked away, fed up with Charity's lies and secrets, and that fear had returned. When they'd gotten back together they started to plan the wedding and this time she'd tried so hard not to forget. Secret trips to the bridal shops in Hotten, writing her own vows, planning the perfect family honeymoon to Disneyland, Paris. It was going to be the perfect day with only the kids and Tracy there, no Dingles to spoil it. Only Graham had spoiled it, or maybe she had, she wasn't even sure anymore who she blamed for it all.

Tearing her gaze from the clock, she stands and moves towards the window that separates the waiting area from Vanessa's room. The nurse is still in there, checking her blood pressure and adjusting the flow of the IV that is rehydrating her. Vanessa is still asleep. They had had to sedate her on arrival because Johnny had needed to go to the children's ward with Tracy and Ness hadn't wanted to let him go. When they'd finally wrestled Johnny from her arms, she'd lashed out and started screaming. When Charity had tried to step in and calm her down, it hadn't made any difference. It was almost as though she hadn't even recognised her. It was only when the sedatives had started to take effect that she'd reached out and grabbed hold of Charity's arm tightly, staring at her with wide and terrified eyes, and begged her not to let them make her sleep. She had shushed her and held her and told her that she was going to be okay, that Johnny was going to be okay, but Vanessa hadn't seemed to believe her and Charity couldn't blame her for that.

The guilt rose like bile in her throat, bitter and impossible to swallow. She could live with the sedation, but the rest of it was just too much. How often had she walked past Mulberry in the last two weeks? If only she'd paid more attention, she might have heard something or seen the blinds move. But no, she had been too engrossed in her own misery and in constantly checking her phone that she hadn't even stopped to think that maybe Vanessa hadn't gone on holiday without her. It was obvious now she really thought about it. Vanessa wasn't the one who did selfish and spiteful things like that; she was. And all the time that Charity had been licking her wounds, Vanessa had been tied up in Laurel's kitchen with that monster. Johnny had been kept from his mum, kept drowsy with medicine and not able to go outside.

The only thing that gave her some relief was the knowledge that he hadn't hurt her, hadn't hurt her in the same way that he'd hurt Rhona. The doctor's had checked her over thoroughly and aside from the effects of dehydration, weakness and bruises around her wrist where she'd struggled, there were no signs of physical injury. It was a small victory but it was important. Of course, Charity knew a little bit about being kept prisoner and it wasn't the physical injuries that worried her.

The nurse waddled out of the room then, pulling the blood pressure monitor behind her. She gave Charity a sympathetic smile.

"She's doing okay, even starting to get some colour back in her face."

"When are they going to wake her up?" Charity asks.

"The doctor said he'd back in a few hours, so I've just given her her last top-up. Hopefully she's a bit calmer when she comes round."

The nurse means well but Charity has to bite her tongue. She nods and smiles at the older woman, but can't help but wonder how she'd cope with being tied up in the same spot for twelve days.

As the nurse leaves, Charity heads back into the room and takes a seat next to Vanessa's bed. Instinctively, she reaches for her hand, but stops herself before her fingers can slide into place between hers. Would Vanessa want her to be holding her hand? The whole thing had happened so quickly and there was such an awful lot of commotion, that Charity had barely been able to make eye contact with Vanessa. She'd been in such a state that the paramedics hadn't let her in the ambulance, and by the time she'd caught up with them at the hospital, they were already trying to sedate her. She wasn't the sort of person who prayed, but she found herself in that moment silently asking for forgiveness. Felt the sting of hope that Vanessa would wake up calmer and not hate her. Tears threaten to spill again as she looks up at the deceptively peaceful expression on her fiance's face.

She doesn't even look like her Vanessa. She's thinner - too thin. Her eyes are sunken, cheekbones more pronounced and her lips are dry and cracked. Her hair hasn't been washed in weeks and it hangs limply around her face. The bruises around her wrists are a rainbow of colour - yellows and purples and browns. She had struggled more than once then, Charity thought as she allowed her fingers to brush against them, tracing the veins in the back of her hand that seemed more prominent.

A cough startles her. Looking up, she sees Rhona in the doorway looking tearful. She wants to be angry at her for not telling her straight away that Pierce had Vanessa, not giving her the chance to save her, and to get her hands on the man who had tormented her for weeks. But the anger dies as quickly as it rises because she can see in Rhona's face that she's already at rock bottom. Now fully aware of how Graham had died, she'd been willing to sacrifice herself to the murderous rapist just to save Vanessa and Johnny. What right did Charity have to be angry after how little she had done?

"How is she?" Rhona asks from a safe distance.

"They say she's okay physically, but they've sedated her because she completely lost it when she got here. She wouldn't let Johnny go."

Rhona nods and swallows. Reassured by Charity's calm voice, she makes her way over to the bed and sits in the chair on the opposite side. Reaching for Vanessa's hand, she looks at Charity, worry etched in her face.

"Are you okay?" she asks tentatively.

Charity scoffs at the ridiculousness of the question.

”Pretty sure I’m the only person in the room right now who hasn’t had to face that bastard.”

She looks up and meets Rhona’s eyes. She wants to ask if he hurt her but doesn’t think she could handle the answer being yes. Rhona seems to read the question on her face somehow.

”He didn’t hurt me,” she whispers as her eyes flit anxiously towards Vanessa. Charity follows them and sees the bruises and sores, understanding that Rhona can’t ask the question either.

”They’ve checked her over and they say there’s no evidence he’s hurt her... like that.”

Rhona gasps with relief and a shaky hand covers her mouth to muffle the sobs that are suddenly released.

”Thank God,” she says, “Thank God.”

The night seems endless, punctuated only by regular texts from Tracy and Noah and the nurse that comes in to do observations every hour. Vanessa sleeps through it all. 

Johnny, thankfully, seems to be doing okay. Pierce had been drugging him somehow but there were no signs of lasting damage, Tracy assured her. They were giving him fluids too. He was asking for Vanessa and from what he was saying to Tracy, it sounded like Pierce had kept him away from Vanessa the whole time. It made her reaction to being separated from him totally understandable. Moses had only been taken from her one day but she hadn’t wanted to let him out of her sight for weeks after that. 

As dawn starts to filter through the blinds, she realises she hasn’t even thought about sleep. All she has been able to think about is how completely useless words are. She has no idea which words could even begin to show Ness how sorry she is. Too many times, she has come close to losing her and every time, the thought of living life without her had been unbearable. Maybe it wasn’t healthy to rely so much on another persons existence for your own happiness, but what was the point in loving someone if you could live without them?

Absentmindedly, she stroked her thumb over the engagement ring that should have been replaced by a wedding band by now. If she had just found a way to marry her that day, none of this would have happened. They would have been in Paris with the boys and Pierce would never have gotten his hands on her. 

“I’m so sorry Ness,” she whispers, pressing her lips against Vanessa’s upturned palm. 


	2. In this short Life that only lasts an hour How much - how little - is within our power?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noah and Sarah's experience. Set the night of 25/02/20.

He barely has any health left, and his team is losing badly. He rolls behind a wall and starts to apply bandages, hoping that someone from the opposing team won’t spot him in the 7 seconds it takes to regenerate some of his hit points. All around him, the battle is becoming more and more intense as he see’s men from each side being mowed down by machine guns.

He’s so focussed on this moment that he doesn’t hear the pounding at his bedroom door until Sarah gives up and comes charging in. He almost falls off his chair in shock and can only watch as an enemy seems to sense his distraction and shoots him in the head.

“Great!” he shouts, pulling off his headphones and fixing Sarah with a glare. “You just got me killed. Thanks a lot. Ever heard of knocking?”

Sarah doesn’t even acknowledge the question or her uncle’s frustration. She simply thrusts her phone screen into his face and suddenly Noah can see that she’s shaking.

“What’s wrong? What’s this?” he asks, taking the phone from Sarah and turning up the volume.

“Just listen,” she replies, skipping the video back to the beginning.

At first, it isn’t clear what’s going on. It’s a video of some kitchen with some bloke whose face he can’t see talking about killing someone. Then he hears someone who sounds like Rhona say Graham’s name and he realises that the man in the video is confessing to killing Graham. He pauses the video and stares, wide eyed at Sarah.

“Oh my God, this guy killed Graham? Who is he? This means that they’ll let Marlon go, right?”

Surely this is good news. If Rhona has found the guy who really killed Graham then the police can arrest him and let Marlon go. But Sarah doesn’t seem too happy about it. She nods at the phone.

“Keep listening, there’s more,” she insists, hitting play again on the screen recording that Leanna had sent her.

The guy in the video is explaining how he killed Graham and it’s hard to hear. Noah scrunches his eyes shut and tries not to imagine Graham’s final moments as this lunatic caved his head in with a torch. Not many people had seen Graham’s good side, but the guy had always looked out for him, especially since Joe had disappeared.

Rhona’s voice interrupts his train of thought then.

“Is that what you did to Vanessa? To Johnny and Kim? Did you kill them too?”

The words hover in the air for a moment, like pieces of a puzzle that he can’t seem to fit together in a way that makes sense. Vanessa and Johnny were in Paris. His mum had said so, had even shown him the text on Tracy’s phone. He looks at Sarah and see’s now the panic on her face for what it is.

Before the questions can even begin to form in his mind, the bedroom is lit up by blue flashing lights and the two teenagers rush to the window and fling open the curtains. In absolute silence, police vans and ambulances are speeding past and parking outside Laurel’s house. The street is filling up with villagers and he spots his mum running around the back of the pub. Outside the Woolpack, Tracy and Paddy and the rest of them are all clearly in a state of panic.

The puzzle pieces come together suddenly and for a split second, Noah feels the silence of the world around him in his bones. Vanessa was never in Paris. She was at Laurel’s house this whole time with some head case who could have hurt her and Johnny.

He runs then. Down the stairs and out of the door, though his legs suddenly feel unnaturally heavy and the Woolpack seems suddenly so far away.

The cold air hits him as he gets outside and he realises he’s only wearing a thin t-shirt. Sarah, who had clearly been blessed with a bit more common sense, is right behind him and throws his jacket at him as she starts to put on her own.

Noah can see his mum again. She’s being dragged back up the street towards the pub and she’s screaming at the police.

“Get my fiancée away from that scum or I’ll kill you lot myself!” she screams, and the terror in her voice stops Noah in his tracks. He watches her for a moment from the middle of the street as Tracy wraps her arms around her and Bob places her coat around her shoulders. Over at Mulberry, there are dozens of police officers wearing bullet proof vests and carrying assault rifles. They’re all hiding, waiting, poised for action. Mulberry is in darkness and the village is eerily silent as everyone waits.

He knows he should go and comfort his mum. Even from a distance, he can see that she’s terrified. But what could he say? If that guy has killed Vanessa and Johnny, how can anything he says or does even start to make that okay? He feels his own tears, hot against his cold cheeks as he allows himself to imagine the unimaginable. It had taken him so long to accept Vanessa and Johnny as family, but now that he had, he couldn’t picture what a life without them would look like. He didn’t want to picture it.

Instead he remembered.

Remembered how Vanessa always packed carrot sticks instead of crisps into his lunch and how he usually managed to swap them back without her noticing.

He remembered how Johnny and Moses woke him up for school by piling on top of him and hitting him with pillows until he relented and got out of bed.

He remembered asking Vanessa once why she had stuck around for so long when his mum was… well, his mum.

He remembered the soft look in her eyes as she’d told him that she loved his mum for who she was, even if she didn’t always agree with the way she behaved.

Suddenly, the police start to move. They file into the house, and the sound of the door crashing open echoes painfully around the street. He expects there to be some sort of struggle, but nothing happens. A few moments later, the guy from the video is being carried out of the house with an arm around the shoulders of two police officers, his feet dragging behind him and his head hanging limply against his chest. The officers hand him over to two paramedics and after a moment of conversation, two more paramedics are rushing into the house with a trolley.

He’s seen enough crime shows to know that if they were going in for a dead body, they wouldn’t be rushing like that. A glimmer of hope sparks in his chest and he heads over to where his mum is being held back by Tracy, Paddy and Bob.

“Mum,” he says, reaching out to touch her arm. She doesn’t hear him. She can’t hear him. Her face is frozen in fear like some grotesque statue. Instead, Tracy releases her and holds out her arms for him. He forgets his teenage awkwardness for a moment and allows himself to be hugged.

“Are Ness and Johnny really in there?” he asks and Tracy nods, squeezing him a little tighter. He thinks she needs the hug more than he does, so he allows it.

Outside Mulberry, a police officer emerges with Rhona. She’s wrapped in a blanket and clearly shaken up, but she’s walking. A moment later, one of the paramedics appears carrying a bundle of blankets and climbs into one of the ambulances.

“Is that Johnny?” Tracy asks no one in particular, as she lets Noah go and starts to head for the barrier that the police have put up to keep everyone back. Swirling is standing there with a few other officers who are making sure the crowd stays away from the house.

“Look,” Tracy yells in Swirling’s face, “if that’s my nephew and he’s been hurt, he’s going to need me.”

Swirling turns to his colleagues nearby and after a moment, waves Tracy under the barrier. She runs straight to the ambulance to that bundle of blankets and he doesn’t see her again. They wouldn’t have carried him out like that if he was dead, Noah tells himself.

The last time he’d seen Johnny, he was heading out to nursery with Ness, holding his yellow football tightly. He’d asked Noah if they could play football after he got home from school, and Noah had moaned at the time. He knew his little brothers idolised him, that he should be proud of the way they copy everything he does and try to act just like him. But hanging around with two four year olds all the time wasn’t doing his reputation any good. Vanessa had seen his reluctance at Johnny’s question and had placed a hand on his arm, told him not to worry, that she’d take him for a kick about at Grace’s Garden herself.

By the time he had got home from school that day, he’d changed his mind. He had waited for Johnny and Ness to get back, but they never had.

He’d been so angry at mum when she’d told him about Paris. They’d been bickering and giving each other the silent treatment ever since the wedding and he just knew that somehow it was his mum’s fault – that she’d finally done what he had begun to think was impossible – and driven Vanessa away.

But he’d kept quiet. He’d watched his mum obsessively checking her phone. Watched her drift away mid-conversation, clearly distracted with worry about whether Vanessa had dumped her or not. One night, as he’d passed her bedroom on the way to the toilet, he’d heard her crying. He’d hovered at the door but hadn’t gone in. Just listened as the sobs turned to whimpers and eventually snores as she cried herself to sleep. He was angry but he also knew that his mum still loved Vanessa and that gave him hope that maybe she could fix it again like she had last time.

The ambulance with Johnny and Tracy drives off, blue lights flashing and sirens wailing. Noah swallows the lump in his throat and turns back to his mum.

She hasn’t moved. She’s still staring at the door to Mulberry, her expression completely blank like she’s playing a game of poker and has no idea whether she’s about to win or lose. Sarah, who is standing beside her, looks anxiously between her gran and Noah and Mulberry. They both know what everyone is waiting for. Even the rest of the crowd have stopped gossiping and chattering. Everyone is waiting for Vanessa.

When they wheel the trolley out, there’s no mistaking that Vanessa is very much alive. The paramedics are trying to keep her calm but she’s refusing to stay still.

“I want my son!” she screams, and her voice seems to bring his mum back to reality. She doesn’t even stop to ask before she vaults over the barrier and runs at speed towards Mulberry. Swirling and the rest of the officers just stare after her dumbly and Noah finds himself smiling at how stupid they look. He shouldn’t blame them for being useless really. It would take a lot more than a few daft coppers to stop his mum from getting to Vanessa.

Noah squeezes through the crowd until he’s at the barrier. Swirling acknowledges him with a nod and tries to keep looking professional when Noah smirks at him. In the distance, he can see his mum’s flailing arms as the police officers surrounding the ambulance try to hold her back. It takes five of them in the end to bring her back to the Woolpack but she fights them the whole way.

Running over to her, he grabs her hands and tugs on them sharply so that she’ll look at him. Reluctantly she focuses on him and as she does, the anger and frustration seems to collapse in on itself as she lets out a heart-breaking sob.

“Mum, you need to stop fighting the police,” he warns her. “You’ll be no use to Vanessa if they arrest you.”

She nods, wiping away the tears and staring back towards the ambulance that is now pulling away and heading for the hospital.

“Let’s go and get the car mum,” he says, prompting her into action. Together, they run back to the car and he hears Sarah shouting at them to wait for her. At the car, his mum stops in her tracks, and looks up at her son and granddaughter who are waiting impatiently for her to unlock the car.

“No,” she says.

“No what?” Noah asks, confused as to why they aren’t already chasing after those ambulances.

“Ross is bringing Moses back from Liverpool in the morning so I need you guys to stay here, I’ll text you as soon as I know anything, I swear,”

Noah wants to argue. How can she seriously expect him to stay at home? He stutters, trying to find the words to convince her, but then he notices the way she’s looking at him – silently begging him not to make a fuss because she just wants to go and see Vanessa. Reluctantly he nods, and she smiles through her tears before climbing into the car and driving off.

“Do you think they’ll be alright?” Sarah asks. She’s been so quiet that he had almost forgotten she was there but as he looks over, he can see the fear in her eyes too.

“Vanessa has put up with mum for two years now and that hasn’t broke her. She’s the toughest person I know. I think she’ll be okay.”

Sarah nods, as her bottom lip trembles.

“I hope you’re right,” she whispers.


	3. i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after the Friday 28/2/20 episode. I'm not completely happy with it but I needed to write something before going to bed. I may come back and edit it at a later date or continue it in another chapter.

She watches Vanessa walk away and waits for the bedroom door to slam shut behind her before she allows herself to sink to the ground. She pulls her knees up to her chest and hugs them tightly as the tears start to fall again. Out of frustration, she flings her head back, where it hits the wall with a sickening thud. The whiskey she’d been drinking on an empty stomach immediately begins to rise in her throat and she barely makes it to the kitchen sink before she throws up the amber liquid.

Gripping the edge of the sink, she lowers herself back down to the floor and presses her face against the fridge door. She hates crying. Hates how weak and vulnerable it makes her feel. It’s always been easier to get angry or get drunk, but neither of those things are even coming close to helping right now.

How can you get angry at something you can’t even see?

She hates the cancer. Hates it more than she’s ever hated anything in her life – even Bails. When Lachlan’s dad had stabbed Vanessa last year, it had taken all of her willpower to only hit him once. To simply knock him out when what she’d really wanted to do was keep hitting him, over and over again until his brains were in a puddle on the road. And if that police officer hadn’t stopped her on Tuesday, she’s pretty certain she would have killed Pierce. But you can’t kill cancer. You can’t beat it to a pulp or punch it or even scream at it – because cancer doesn’t care, it doesn’t listen.

Opening the fridge door, she stares for a moment at the bottle of wine they’d been saving for their wedding night but never got round to drinking. She wants to drink. She wants to drink until it stops hurting, even if that means passing out. But she doesn’t. She closes the door instead.

She hasn’t wanted a drink this badly since the week after the trial when she’d woken up in a field with a combine harvester heading straight for her. Since that day, she had managed to avoid drinking herself into oblivion whenever things went wrong. When she’d found out about Lisa’s illness, when Debbie had left for Scotland and even when Noah had spent Christmas in hospital – she hadn’t drank.

She hadn’t needed to because she’d had Vanessa. Vanessa had been there by her side through all of it, unwavering in her love and support. Vanessa had said that they could face anything together, and Charity had believed her.

She’s not sure that she still does.

Because before Vanessa, she had never really loved anyone. She’d thought she had, but being with Vanessa had made all of those past loves seem so trivial and insignificant. And loving Vanessa was as easy as breathing. As if the only reason for her existence was to love and be loved by this amazing woman who had walked into her car crash of a life and made her feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

And now this vile, despicable disease was trying to take Vanessa away. Even as she sits here on the kitchen floor, it is spreading inside of her, tightening its grip. Charity slams her fists against her thighs and lets out a silent scream. It hurts, but the pain is a welcome distraction from the swirling panic that is threatening to consume her entirely.

She knows she’s selfish. She has always been selfish. Self-preservation is how she’s survived all these years, even when it’s meant doing terrible things to people she’s loved. She’s lived her life building walls to keep people out, to keep herself safe. Until Vanessa took those walls apart, brick by brick. And she should have felt scared, exposed and vulnerable when she did – but she hadn’t. Because Vanessa had seen her – really seen her – and loved her completely.

Taking a deep breath, Charity forces herself to stand. She knows that she can’t stop being afraid any more than she can stop loving Vanessa. But love, she decides, has to be stronger than fear. And if it is, then perhaps the only way she can fight this is to just allow love to take the wheel instead.

Vanessa is curled up in the foetal position when she slowly opens the bedroom door. She hasn’t bothered to change or even get under the covers, and she’s crying. Her tiny frame shudders with each sob. When she see’s Charity standing in the doorway, she buries her face in the pillow.

“Leave me alone, Charity,” she snaps, though her voice is muffled by the pillow.

“Never,” Charity says, and without another word, she climbs onto the bed and shuffles closer to Vanessa until her front is pressed firmly against her back. As she slides an arm over her waist, Vanessa flinches but doesn’t push her away. She waits a beat before searching for her hand and sliding her fingers between hers, allowing her thumb to gently stroke the back of her hand.

Words bubble in her mouth as she fights the urge to fill the silence between them. She knows it will be pointless. She knows that Vanessa needs actions, not words. Needs to see how strong Charity can be for her. So she simply squeezes the tiny hand in her own and continues to stroke.

After what feels like an eternity, Vanessa turns to face her. Her eyes are pink and bloodshot but they search Charity’s face for an answer to a question she can’t bring herself to ask out loud.

Charity brings a hand to her face, tracing her cheekbones and jaw with her fingertips, brushing gently over lips that are still sore. Vanessa closes her eyes then, forcing out the tears she’s been trying desperately to hold back. Leaning in, Charity catches one with a gentle kiss and Vanessa responds by wrapping her arms tightly around Charity, as though she might drown if she lets go.

Pressing her face to Charity’s chest, she starts to cry again. This time, she doesn’t hold back; the tears seem to be infinite.

As the tears subside, Charity isn’t sure what to do next.

“Do you think they’ve made a Dummies Guide to supporting your loved one through cancer?” she asks warily, “because I think I need that book babe.”

Pulling away just far enough so that she can look Charity in the eye, Vanessa smiles through the tears and Charity feels herself melting. She has missed that smile. More than that, she has missed being the cause of that smile.

“You don’t need a book Charity,” Vanessa whispers. “Just don’t leave me please… don’t push me away… I don’t think I can do this without you.”

There’s a vulnerability in her eyes that Charity has rarely seen. Even when Frank died, Vanessa had rarely allowed herself to be exposed like this, had struggled to ask Charity for anything.

“Do you remember what I said at the hospital, babe?” Charity asks, rubbing a thumb over damp cheeks. Vanessa shakes her head.

“I said I was never letting you go again, and I meant it. I mean it. I’m going nowhere. Just tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

Vanessa closes her eyes to think. When she opens them again, the smile is back.

“Can you just kiss me like all this bad stuff never happened?”

Leaning in, Charity captures Vanessa’s lips gently with her own. The kiss is soft, but Vanessa whimpers slightly, coaxing Charity’s tongue into her mouth where it slides gently against her own. As the kiss deepens, Charity can feel Vanessa’s hands creep beneath her shirt and trace the waistband of her jeans.

She pulls back for a second and searches Vanessa’s eyes, needing to know this is really what she needs. Vanessa understands and answers her with a hand in her hair, pulling her back into the kiss.


	4. When I see your light shine, I know I'm home.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charity introspection.

In the time it had taken Charity to brush her teeth and moisturize, Vanessa had already fallen asleep. Standing in the doorway for a moment, she watched her tiny frame barely disturb the duvet and listened to the soft, quiet snores.

Making fun of Vanessa’s height had always been a reliable source of amusement for her. Watching her have to jump to reach the top shelf in the supermarket was one of Charity’s favourite pastimes. At the same time, she loved how Vanessa’s head fitted perfectly beneath her chin when she held her close. Loved to breath in the scent of her shampoo and drop feather light kisses on her forehead.

Only now, her smallness wasn’t so much amusing or endearing as it was terrifying. She looked so fragile – like a porcelain doll – painted to look lifelike but deceptively hollow and easy to break.

Chas’ words echoed in her mind.

**_Vanessa is a survivor. She’s strong and she’s tough._ **

Charity wanted so badly to believe it that she had taken to repeating it to herself in silence, almost like a prayer. She’d never been the religious sort. She’d seen the worst of religion in her dad and it had put her off for life. But suddenly, she began to understand its appeal. She wished she could believe that some benevolent and devoted sky-daddy would listen if she prayed and would simply take away the cancer if she only prayed hard enough.

But even if she could believe it possible – and she simply couldn’t – she knew that no God would answer her prayers. She had no leverage with the big man upstairs. If there was such a thing as souls, she imagined hers would be black. Her sins were too numerous.

Vanessa’s soul, though – Vanessa’s soul wasn’t black with sin. She wasn’t perfect, but she was the closest thing to it that Charity had ever seen. So why was she the one suffering? The fact that it was her body being devoured by cancer and not Charity’s was exactly the reason that Charity couldn’t believe in God. Bad things happened to the best people and it wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.

She changed quickly and quietly before slipping beneath the duvet. Instinct almost made her shuffle over and reach out to hold Vanessa, but she stopped herself. Touching Vanessa had always been easy. It was as if her hands were created to know every inch of her skin, every curve of her body. Charity knew every scar and each freckle intimately – could find them blindfolded if she needed to.

But now, this beautiful body that she had so many times commanded with the gentlest of touches, was under the control of something far more sinister. Charity had to believe that they would beat it. That Vanessa would survive.

_**Vanessa is a survivor. She is strong. She is tough.** _

She feels her eyes sting with tears that she now spends most of her days forcing back, refusing them the freedom to fall. She is no longer the centre of her universe. She is the moon that orbits Vanessa, helpless to close the distance between them but unable to leave. She had thought about leaving. Imagining losing Vanessa – imagining how much she might suffer and struggle, only to die anyway – had conjured up a fear that Charity had never felt before because she had never felt love like this before. But she couldn’t leave. Vanessa’s gravity kept her in orbit so that she could no more walk away from Vanessa as she could rip out her own lungs.

She found herself staring at the back of Vanessa’s head. She had tied her hair up in a messy ponytail and Charity traced the curve of her neck with her eyes. Imagined the thrum of her heart beating there. She followed the curve to the shoulders that had carried so much of Charity’s weight without once growing tired. And when almost every other person in Charity’s life would have walked away, Vanessa had pulled her closer and offered to carry more, willingly shared each burden.

Vanessa was her rock, her anchor, the only human that she hadn’t given birth to that Charity would willingly die for. She would have faced Pierce for her and if she could, she would take the cancer for her too. But she can’t. All she can do is watch the person she loves crumbling beneath the weight of it.

And she knows that she has to be selfless now, but in these moments, when Ness is sleeping and the pain is temporarily forgotten, Charity allows herself a moment to cry. She cries for Vanessa but also for herself. Because she knows that if Vanessa were to die, that a lot of the goodness in her would die too. Of course Vanessa would insist that there had been goodness in Charity all along. In Vanessa’s eyes, almost all of her past mistakes could be traced back to one trauma or another. Charity had long since given up arguing with her about it but deep down, she knew that without Vanessa, she would be flung into space, untethered and aimless.

The tears are hot against her cheeks and she turns her face into her pillow to muffle the sobs that break from her lungs in gasps. She squeezes her eyes shut tight and tries to focus on the millions of stars that illuminate the darkness of her mind.

A familiar hand finds the back of her neck as fingers slide into the roots of her hair. Swallowing hard, she turns to find Vanessa watching her with both softness and sadness in her eyes. Charity wipes at her cheeks with the back of her hand opens up her arms. With only a slight twinge of pain, Vanessa shuffles into her embrace, burying her head against Charity’s chest.

Over the last two years, Charity has come to realise that there are few problems in the world that can’t be alleviated – albeit temporarily – by the press of Vanessa’s flesh against her own. By the simple acts of intimacy that Vanessa deems her worthy of receiving.

Vanessa’s hand leaves her hair then, to trace her jaw and cheekbones, thumbing away tears. Charity shivers beneath the caress and opens her eyes, seeing the tears in Vanessa’s eyes spill over. Slipping an arm beneath the duvet and across the bone of her hip, she tries to pull Vanessa closer, as if she can absorb the pain and the sadness from her.

She tries to think of the right words to say but realises that no words can begin to convey the desperate ache inside of her. And there is no combination of words that can push away the one six letter word that now dominates their every thought. In the end, it doesn’t matter, because Vanessa speaks first.

“I’m sorry I can’t be positive about things right now,” she whispers. “I’m sorry I can’t be what you need.”

The apologies feel like bullets without an exit wound.

“Don’t ever apologise for your feelings Vanessa, please,” Charity begs, kissing each tear streaked cheek. “You are everything that I never knew I needed, and nothing will ever change that.”

For a moment, a familiar brightness lights up the hollows of her face and Charity leans in to the warmth of it, basks in the temporary glow of her smile.


	5. You were the only safe haven that I’ve known.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after 10/03/20.

Sarah’s footsteps grow quieter, bedroom doors softly shut and the distant sound of running water reminds her that Vanessa is upstairs, running a bath. For the first time that day she is thankful for Tracy who has offered to keep the rugrats over night, meaning that for a moment, alone downstairs, she can allow herself to feel the fear that clamours and claws beneath her skin. Between the soup making contraption and the yoga mat, she had managed to bury it temporarily, but Sarah, so wise beyond her years, had summoned it back to the surface.

Sinking down into the chair, she draws her feet up and hugs her knees tightly. Perhaps tight enough that she can somehow keep holding herself together. 

Because this isn’t what Vanessa needs. Vanessa needs her to be strong. 

But Charity has never felt so small and afraid, so broken, as she does in that moment with Sarah’s words carving themselves into a memory. **_You can’t say that she’s not going to die. Because you can’t know that. No one can_**.

And she’s right. Of course she’s right. If anyone knows the dark and brutal truth of cancer, Sarah does. And she has been trying so hard to keep this fear buried, locked up tight in a box so that Ness won’t see it in her eyes. But at night, when exhaustion has claimed her, Charity sits by her side and scrolls through every website she can find, reading testimonials and statistics until she can convince herself that Vanessa will survive.

Because she has to. It’s that simple. Because Charity doesn’t know how to live without her, can no longer remember who she is without her. Doesn’t want to remember. 

She presses the palms of her hands to her eyes, trying to stem the flow of tears before they make her face blotchy. Taking a deep breath, she stands, shaking herself back together. She is beginning to feel like some sort of glass that has been shattered into a million pieces but glued back together. The pieces keep chipping away though and she knows that soon, there will be too many holes. 

Upstairs, she pauses briefly at the bathroom door and practices her smile before knocking.

”It’s me,” she calls, as cheerfully as she can manage.

”Come in,” answers that voice, familiar and warm.

Vanessa is already in the bath, her slight frame looking like a tiny island in a wide ocean. The strain of telling the kids has left her tired again and she simply sits there, her chin between her knees in a froth of bubbles. Charity closes the door quickly behind her and hovers for a moment, suddenly unsure. Vanessa simply looks at her, offering her a small but tired smile.

”Can I get in babe?” She asks, Tracy’s comments about her suffocating Vanessa still raw.

”Since when do you need to ask?” Vanessa chuckles, shuffling herself down the bath, closer to the taps.

Grinning widely, Charity strips, remembering at the last minute to throw her comfies into the washing hamper and not on the floor. The thoughtfulness earns her a grateful smile from Vanessa.

Climbing in behind Vanessa, Charity sighs as the steaming hot water momentarily relaxes her. Shuffling back again, Vanessa leans back into her arms, resting her head against Charity’s chest and sliding her hands along her outstretched thighs. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, tilting her head to the side so she can look Charity in the eye.

”What for?” Charity asks, sliding her arms around the smaller woman’s waist and pulling her even closer.

”For everything. For putting up with me. For doing your best every day, even when I throw it back in your face.”

Charity smiles softly into her hair before pressing a firm kiss against Vanessa’s forehead.

”Always, babe,” she murmurs. “And you were amazing today, telling Noah and Sarah. They think the world of you, especially Noah.”

Vanessa nods slightly, squeezing Charity’s thigh gently.

”I think the world of them too. And you.”

She yawns then, her eyelids fluttering beneath the weight of fatigue. Pushing her forward slightly, Charity reaches for the shower head and attaches it to the tap before running the water. Checking the temperature on her own leg, she shuffles back a little to give herself room to work.

”What are you doing?” Vanessa asks, forcing her eyes open and turning to look incredulously at her fiancée.

”Shush you. Just close your eyes,” 

Vanessa does as she’s told, too tired to argue. Once her hair is sufficiently wet, Charity squeezes a little shampoo into the palm of her hand and begins massaging it into Vanessa’s hair. She smiles when a deep sigh of contentment escapes Vanessa’s lips and she feels the tension in her muscles melt away. 

Under just about any other circumstances, such a moment of intimacy would have quickly turned sexual. In fact, Charity can’t remember a single time that she’s been this close to Vanessa’s naked skin and not given into her more base instincts, sliding her hands over the smooth curves of Vanessa’s body and beneath the water. And while the thought makes her twitch and ache briefly, the weight of Vanessa’s head in her hands keeps her in check. 

After a second shampoo and then conditioner, Vanessa is all but asleep in her arms. Lowering her head into the curve of her neck, Charity kisses the freckles on Vanessa’s shoulders.

”All done babe,” she murmurs, “Time for bed?”

Vanessa groans, clearly frustrated by a body that suddenly refuses to do as it’s told. Still, she allows Charity to help her out of the bath and wrap her in towels, patting her dry as she does so. And though she wants to protest, because it’s not even dinner time, she allows herself to be led to their bedroom. She takes the fresh PJs that Charity hands her and insists on dressing herself while Charity does the same. 

Climbing on top of the duvet, because she insists that she only needs a little nap, she pats the empty space beside her until Charity relents and snuggles into Vanessa’s side, her head resting on her shoulder.

”What did I do to deserve you?” Vanessa asks, stifling a yawn.

”Oh, I don’t know babe, must have been something pretty bad though.”

Vanessa scowls at her then, before sliding her hand into Charity’s hair and pulling her into a soft but insistent kiss. 

“No, Charity... I think I must have done something very good to deserve you. I wouldn’t want to face this with anyone else by my side.”

She falls asleep in minutes and Charity finds herself just lying there, watching the slow and steady rise of her chest and listening to the soft, intermittent snores. She tries to commit the moment to memory, cataloguing every line and every curve, each twitch of her nose and flutter of eyelids. She tries not to think about the possibility that some day, memories could be all she has left. Instead, she places a hand gently over Vanessa’s chest and smiles to feel her heart, thumping away beneath her palm.


	6. If I know what love is, it is because of you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What were Charity and Vanessa doing while the babies of Emmerdale were getting christened?

“Now remember boys, mummy has a really sore tummy so we have to be super gentle when we give her cuddles, okay?”

Moses and Johnny look up at her earnestly and nod their heads.

“No jumping and no squeezing,” repeats Johnny, who had obviously been listening to her instructions on the drive to the hospital.

“That’s right Johnnybobs,” she smiles, ruffling his hair.

Vanessa had spent the whole weekend worrying about how the kid’s might react when they came to visit and Charity had been doing her best to prepare the little ones.

Pushing open the doors to the oncology ward, she smiles and waves at the staff who are sat behind the nurse’s station. She has spent so much time there over the last 5 days that she is now on first name basis with most of them. One nurse in particular, Cathy, has been Vanessa’s main nurse for the last three days and has been particularly good at helping to keep Vanessa’s spirits up. Seeing the kids, she rounds the nurse’s station and crouches down to Moses and Johnny’s level.

“Well, you two must be the terrible twosome that I’ve been hearing so much about!” she exclaims brightly.

“We’re not terrible!” Moses laughs, “They are!” He points up at Noah and Sarah who pretend to be offended by the accusation.

Johnny takes a step back and slides himself behind Charity’s legs, overwhelmed by the bright and cheerful stranger who seems to know who he is.

Crouching down, Charity coaxes him forward again but wraps her arms around him and nuzzles his cheek with her nose.

“Hey Johnnybobs, no need to be shy. This is Cathy and she’s been helping mummy to feel better,”

Johnny looks intently at Charity before bravely turning back to Cathy and offering her a shy smile.

“Is mummy’s tummy all better now?” he asks her, his voice barely more than a whisper. Cathy’s brightness softens slightly.

“Almost… it’s still a bit sore, but it’s getting better. Do you know the best thing to help a sore tummy feel better boys?” she asks, standing up and reaching over the nurse’s station to grab something.

The boys shake their heads and look expectantly at Cathy for an explanation. She produces a packet of chocolate biscuits then and holds them out for Johnny to take. Looking at Charity for permission, he accepts them with a smile when she nods.

“You have to promise to share them with mummy though,” she reminds him.

“And me!” insists Moses.

“And your brother too,” Cathy laughs.

Smiling her thanks at Cathy, Charity places a hand on each son’s head and begins steering them towards Vanessa’s room.

Sitting up in bed, a home décor magazine open on her lap, Vanessa’s face lights up when she sees them. She pushes herself further up in the bed, trying to mask the pain that it causes her with a smile. The boys rush forward as soon as they see her, but before Charity can say anything, they remember themselves and slow down, stopping at the side of the bed. Carefully, Charity lifts them one at a time and places them on either side of Vanessa.

“Remember, be gentle, no squeezing…” she whispers, more for Moses’ benefit than Johnny’s. Vanessa gives her a grateful smile before sliding an arm around each of her sons and pulling them closer to her. Both boys snuggle in for a cuddle and Johnny stares at her intently, not quite believing that she’s really there.

Ever since Pierce had taken them, he had been clingier, quieter, and even more wary of strangers than he’d been before and he had really struggled for the past five days with not being able to see Vanessa. Charity could tell that he hadn’t fully believed her when she told him that mummy was safe and getting better at the hospital.

“Hey, Johnny, why don’t you show mummy Cathy’s special medicine?” she prompts, nodding towards the packet of chocolate biscuits that he’s still clutching onto. Grinning, he lifts them up for Vanessa to see.

“These will make your tummy better, mummy,” he announces confidently.

“Oh they will, will they?” She raises one eyebrow at Charity. “Well, I suppose we had better open them hadn’t we?”

Both boys wriggle with excitement and Charity fights the urge to hover and reprimand. Instead, she pulls across the table so that Vanessa can open the biscuits and share them out. Noah and Sarah, who have been standing back a little, move forward to accept their share of the biscuits.

“Eat yours mummy Ness,” Moses mumbles, his mouth full of mushy biscuit and a smear of chocolate already decorating his cheek. “Make you better!”

Eventually, the younger boys are satisfied enough that they can be coaxed onto the big chair by the side of the bed and distracted by their tablets. Charity perches on the bed while Noah and Sarah pull up two plastic chairs. Vanessa looks around with a soft smile.

“You know, I wasn’t expecting you today... isn’t it Eve’s christening?”

Charity scoffs.

“As if we’d choose a stuffy church full of screaming babies over coming to see you babe,” she laughs. Noah and Sarah nod in agreement. Charity had given them the option to go, considering they were old enough to take care of themselves, but neither of them had been remotely tempted.

It hadn’t been a difficult decision to make. It had been bad enough having to work on Friday and Saturday and to only be able to check in with Ness on the phone. Tracy had been there with her of course, and had even popped in on her way home to let her know how she was doing.

Chas had been more than understanding. Not that Charity would have cared too much if she hadn’t. If the argument with Marlon had taught her anything, it was that her dear darling family would probably always jump at the chance to assume the worst of her. Marlon’s words had stung, but they hadn’t surprised her, not really. They had simply confirmed what she had always suspected – that no matter how hard she tried, she would always be the black sheep of the family – and that was quite a feat in a family like hers.

“So how did your mocks go?” Vanessa looks at Noah, who bowed his head sheepishly.

“Alright…” he mumbles.

Charity had been trying to fill Ness’ shoes on the school front, but between work and visiting, she knew Noah had probably not been revising as much as he could have been.

“It’s an important year this, Noah,” Ness reminds him. “I know things have been tough but you can’t let that brain of yours go to waste.”

Blushing slightly, Noah nods and promises he won’t. Charity has to turn away. She’d never really been one to care much about school, having somehow survived just fine without it herself. Ness had never chastised her for it either. She’d simply slipped into the role herself, keeping track of homework and test dates, dragging her to parents evenings and forcing each of the kids to tell her how their days had been over dinner. It was just one more way, Charity realised, that Vanessa had made them a proper family. Just one more way in which their lives would suffer if she wasn’t around anymore.

Forcing back the tears, she’s relieved when the conversation changes.

“What are you looking at that for?” Sarah asks, pointing at the magazine on Vanessa’s lap.

“Oh, your gran want’s to re-decorate the bedroom for some reason so I’ve been looking for ideas…”

She had been less than keen on the idea in the beginning, but after a few days of ignoring the magazines, she’d found herself flipping through the pages out of sheer boredom. Now she was starting to warm to the idea and, Charity noticed, she had folded down the corners of several pages.

“Can I redecorate my room too please gran?” Sarah asks, taking the magazine from Vanessa and beginning to flip through the pages with interest.

“Well, we might as well I suppose… nothing too extravagant though eh?”

Looking back at Vanessa, she notices that her eyes have drifted closed and her breathing has slowed. She’s been doing that a lot since the surgery. Falling asleep randomly. Charity knows it’s partly because of the recovery process, but mostly because she’s struggling to get much sleep at the hospital. Whilst Charity can fall asleep and wake up in the exact same position, Vanessa is always on the move during the night. With her stomach still sore from the operation and the morphine canula in her hand, she’s struggling to get comfortable right now.

“Hey, kids,” Charity whispers to Sarah and Noah. “Why don’t you take the boys to the canteen and get them some lunch? Try and keep them there for half an hour or so, eh? Let Ness get some sleep?”

She fishes in her coat pocket and pulls out a £20 note. Noah looks at Vanessa, his concern for her clearly visible on his face, and nods, taking the money and then picking Johnny up. Sarah grabs hold of Moses’ hand and leads him out of the room and in the direction of the canteen.

Charity feels calmer once they’ve gone. She loves each of them like mad, but looking after them without Vanessa was hard work. She hadn’t been stretching the truth too much at all when she’d said she could only stand them because of her. Mothering had never come naturally to her, but Vanessa made it all feel easy. Knowing that someone else has your back, a tag team partner when you simply need a break… well, it makes all the difference.

Reaching for the magazine, she flicks through to the pages Vanessa has marked. After looking at a few of the pages, she can’t help but chuckle. Everything page has something yellow circled on it and there’s a 50/50 chance that Vanessa is either winding her up or deadly serious. Her love of all things yellow is one thing that Charity loves to tease her about, but if a bright yellow bedroom will make her smile, then Charity figures it would be worth it.

For ten minutes, she simply sleeps and Charity simply watches. Their lives have been so hectic and crazy in recent months that she can’t actually remember the last time she simply sat and looked at Vanessa. The cancer and the surgery had taken their toll on her. Her eyes were sunken and darker than they used to be, her cheekbones sharper, her face more gaunt, but she was still beautiful. Charity couldn’t think of anything that would make her less beautiful – losing her hair, needing a stoma – nothing in the world could make Vanessa anything less than gorgeous. She had a kind of effortless beauty, Charity thought, the type that comes as much from the inside as it does from the outside. Where Charity had always used her looks to mask the ugliness of her pain, Vanessa’s goodness and love could mask any physical imperfection.

Eventually, Vanessa’s eyes fluttered open and Charity looked up to find her staring at her intently.

“Where are the kids?” she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep.

“At the canteen getting some lunch,”

“You could have gone with them…”

“I could have. But I didn’t want to,”

“And why’s that?”

“Because I haven’t seen you in a few days and I’ve missed you, and I wanted a bit of time where I didn’t have to share you, even if you were sleeping,”

“You’re such a softie, Charity Dingle,” Vanessa laughed, bringing her left hand over to cradle Charity’s cheek, running her thumb along her cheekbone.

“Only for you babe,” she whispered, taking Vanessa’s hand and pressing her lips against the knuckles.

“So what were you thinking about? It looked painful.” Vanessa joked.

Charity narrowed her eyes and scowled half-heartedly.

“Well, if you must know, I was thinking about how beautiful you are and how lucky I am to have you,”

Vanessa has never been the best at taking compliments, and she’s never been one for flattery, so Charity is expecting her to shrug the words off and make some sort of joke. What she doesn’t expect is for Vanessa’s eyes to start filling with tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Charity moves to sit beside Vanessa on the bed, taking her face in her hands and wiping the tears from beneath her eyes as they fall.

“Nothing… I’m just being stupid. Just having yet another wobble,” she mutters, clearly frustrated with herself for being so emotional.

“Remember what we said?” Charity insists, “You tell me, I tell you…”

Vanessa nods, meeting Charity’s eyes with a sniffle. She brings a hand up to cover Charity’s and nuzzles into her palm.

“It’s just… with the chemo and everything, my hair could fall out, I might get really sick, I might not feel like… you know…”

Charity’s eyebrows knit in confusion before the penny drops.

“Oh, you mean sex?” she laughs.

“It’s not funny Charity!” she pouts, “It isn’t going to be pretty… I’m not going to be pretty… and you didn’t ask for any of this.”

Vanessa stares hard at a her lap, moves her hands to fiddle with a stray thread on the blanket and refuses to look at Charity. Taking her hands in her own, Charity laces her fingers between Vanessa’s and squeezes.

“Vanessa, look at me please,” she asks, tugging gently at her hands. When Vanessa doesn’t move, she untangles a hand and brings it to her chin, lifting her face with a curled finger until their eyes meet again. Fear has etched itself into her features, and Charity feels a pain in her chest at the thought of Vanessa not feeling loved.

“You will never not be beautiful to me… do you hear me? I love you. And yes, you may have reeled me in by giving me the best orgasms of my life, but that isn’t why I stayed… that isn’t why I want to stay forever. You give me so much more than a warm body, Ness. You have healed me and saved me and shown me what true love is… so whatever chemo throws at us, we’re going to get through it, together, understand?”

Vanessa looks at her then, studies her face intently, looking for any signs that Charity is simply saying what she thinks she needs to hear. Over the years, she has gotten pretty good at spotting the tell tale signs of Charity’s lies, but she sees none of them in that moment. With a sigh of acceptance, she loops her hands around Charity’s neck and pulls her forward into a soft kiss. When they part, Vanessa doesn’t let go and Charity shuffles closer so she can rest her head in the curve of Vanessa’s neck. She feels Vanessa’s fingers at the nape of her neck, sinking into her hair and feels an overwhelming sense of comfort. Like she is exactly where she is supposed to be and for just a moment, everything is right with the world.

“You know, I love you too don’t you?” Vanessa whispers then. “And that I didn’t know what love was before you. You know that you’re my person?”

Charity feels a tightness in her chest, because declarations are rare from Vanessa. She has always preferred to show Charity how much she loves her rather than tell her, which makes moments like this all the more special. She hums and nods into Vanessa’s collarbone, not wanting to speak and break the spell.

“And even when I’m cranky and sick and bald and don’t even want to be touched… I’ll always want you. I’ll always need you.”

“And you’ll always have me babe, promise.” Charity whispers.

Curled into each other, like two pieces of a puzzle that didn’t make sense until they were put together, they fall into a peaceful silence. Everything they need to say to one another is in the softness of skin against skin.

They hear Moses first, before the doors of the ward crash open. They pull apart as eager footsteps sound down the corridor, followed by Noah’s gruff voice telling the little ones to slow down. Vanessa squeezes her hand one last time before wiping the tears from her face and putting on her best smile.


	7. Johnnybobs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A slightly rushed and far from perfect idea of what Charity and Vanessa's discussion at the hospital might have looked like. It's very dialogue heavy and I hope that doesn't spoil it too much.

It’s easier, the second time around, now that she knows what to expect. There’s a new nurse on duty today that she hasn’t met before and Vanessa is relieved. She could do without any reminders of her disastrous first chemo session. 

The nurse is gentle and manages to insert the Huber needle quickly and painlessly. She checks the IV bag and the line carefully to make sure everything is running properly before heading off to see to her other patients. 

She thumbs absent-mindedly through a magazine that Tracy had given to her but she isn’t taking any of it in. Eventually, she puts it on the table next to her, leans back and closes her eyes. She tries to relax, but it’s impossible as her mind continues to play Charity’s words over and over again.

“I want him. I love him. He’s my kid!”

How could she have been so blind? How had she allowed her fears for Johnny make her completely oblivious to the pain she was inflicting on the woman she loved? 

More than anything, she’d wanted Charity to be the one to raise him. Over the last 2 years she’d watched her fight to keep Ryan in her life, watched her stand by Debbie’s side through Sarah’s transplant, watched her cry at Noah’s bedside after the drug scare and watched her be willing to take Ross to court for full custody of Moses. She’d even rescued Johnny from Donny on the day she’d been stabbed.

Plenty of people in the village had their opinions about Charity’s parenting skills, but none of them had seen the lengths that she was willing to go to to protect her children. And that was why she’d wanted Charity to be Johnny’s legal guardian. If the worst was to happen, she knew he’d be safe with Charity – knew that she’d fight to the death for him, protect him, keep him safe and love him fiercely like she loved the rest of her kids. 

And then Charity had hesitated and fear had overwhelmed her. Ever since Pierce had drugged him and kept her from seeing him, she had worried constantly about protecting him. The thought of dying and not being around to look after him had been too much to bare. Almost immediately, nothing else had mattered. No one else had mattered. 

The guilt rises up in her throat like bile and all she wants to do is break down and cry, but she can’t. Not here. Not in front of all these strangers. So she wipes at her eyes and takes a deep breath. 

When she hears the doors of the chemo ward open and close, Vanessa opens her eyes, surprised to see Charity standing there. She looks hesitantly at Vanessa with a painfully hopeful smile and waits for Vanessa to smile back before she heads over.

Lowering herself into the seat beside Vanessa, Charity looks around the room anxiously.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want me here after last week,” she admits, looking sheepishly over at the nurses station and looking relieved when she realises that it’s a different nurse on duty. 

Vanessa reaches out and takes Charity’s hand in her own, squeezing gently before rubbing her thumb soothingly over her knuckles. 

“Of course I want you here,” she whispers, “I love you Charity, and I am so sorry that I’ve hurt you.”

Charity shakes her head vehemently, “No Vanessa, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I hesitated and let you believe that I didn’t want to be there for Johnny. It was just too painful and I -”

“Charity, it’s okay, honestly. I should have been able to crack the Charity code. I should have seen how much you were hurting.”

Charity is quiet then, flexing her fingers until they intertwine with Vanessa’s, gazing softly at the engagement ring she had placed there. It sparkles beneath the bright lights of the chemo room. 

“You know,” she whispers, “I think we could probably sit here all day apologising if we wanted to, but it won’t change anything. Maybe we could just agree that we’ve both been rubbish at communicating with each other and try and move forward instead?”

Vanessa nods, smiling through the tears that well up in her eyes, trying desperately not to let them fall. 

“I don’t deserve you Charity Dingle,” she murmurs, lifting Charity’s hand to her cheek and pressing her lips to the inside of Charity’s wrist. “I really don’t.”

Charity scoffs, but unwinds her fingers from Vanessa’s so that she can cup her cheek and thumb away the few tears that have managed to fall. 

Charity leans in closer, “Hey you, please don’t change the habit of a lifetime and start being wrong now. You know, a very wise woman once said that we were perfect for each other.”

Vanessa laughs, looking at the ring that Charity had placed on her finger after she’d uttered those exact words. In all the trauma and fear of the last few months, she had forgotten how true those words were. Nothing about them should have worked and if they hadn’t gotten locked in that cellar at Finn’s funeral, then Vanessa is fairly sure that she might have spent the rest of her life thinking of Charity only as the woman who had tried to ruin her dad’s life. But they had been locked in and that kiss in the cellar had changed everything for both of them.

Glancing back to Charity, she feels her breath hitch as she sees the softness in Charity’s eyes. No one has ever looked at her the way Charity looks at her, as though she had single handedly crafted the whole universe. 

“Did you mean what you said, in the pub yesterday, about seeing Johnny as your own?” she asks. 

Charity smiles, “Of course I did, Ness. You know he’s my Johnnybobs, he means the world to me. You both mean the world to me. I don’t want to even imagine a world without you in it, but if I had to, I don’t think I could handle losing him too.” 

Reaching up, Vanessa slides her fingers into Charity’s hair, cradling her head as Charity leans into the touch. 

“You won’t lose him. I should never have asked Rhona to be his guardian. You and the kids are his family, the only family he’s ever really known. If he didn’t have me around, you’re the only one I want him to call mum.”

Charity swallows roughly and wipes at her eyes, “Do you really mean that?” 

“Charity, you are an amazing mother. I wish you could see that.”  
“But what if I screw him up like my other kids?” Charity asks, that old familiar fear flashing in her eyes. 

Shaking her head, Vanessa smiles softly as she holds both of Charity’s hands in her own, squeezing them tightly as she speaks.

“How are your kids screwed up? Look at Debbie, she’s had the strength and the courage to start a new life in Scotland. Ryan could have walked away from you a dozen times, but he has chosen to have you in his life because he wants you around. Noah is the sweetest, smartest and kindest 16 year old I know, and Moses – well, he’s a force of nature, but he’s always smiling Charity – he’s always happy. You’re kids are amazing because YOU are amazing. And Johnny is exactly the same – he’s so lucky to have you in his life.”

She watches as Charity’s eyes light up and something close to pride makes her sit up a little straighter. Vanessa wishes that she didn’t need reminding so much of how wonderful she really is, but she can think of worse ways to spend the rest of her life than reminding Charity every day that she is the best thing to have ever happened to her or their children. 

“You know, I feel lucky every day that I have you in my life Ness, you and Johnny. I don’t tell you enough, but you have given me more than I ever could have hoped for. You have saved me in a thousand different ways.”

Sliding a hand around the back of Charity’s neck, Vanessa pulls her forward and kisses her softly. More than anything she wants to pull her onto the chair with her, curl up in the warmth of her. She wants to kiss her until she has no breath left in her body, but she can’t, so she pulls back, smiling coyly. 

“You’ve saved me too,” she whispers, her hand sliding from Charity’s hair and along her jawline until she can brush a finger over Charity’s lips. Charity closes her eyes, sliding her own hand over Vanessa’s to hold her in place and turning her head slightly to kiss Vanessa’s palm. 

They sit like that for a few minutes until the sound of the nurse clearing her throats reminds them that there are other people in the room. Laughing nervously, they apologise, but the nurse waves away their apologies. 

“Don’t be daft. It’s lovely to see patients being so loved and supported, I just need to check the IV though,” 

She steps around Charity to check that everything is running properly and checks Vanessa’s port to make sure that the Huber needle is still in place.

“You’re doing brilliantly. Only half an hour to go,” she smiles before wondering off. 

Charity smiles at her proudly then, as if she’s just won the Nobel prize for surviving chemo. 

“Hey, at least that’s one nurse who likes me then,” she whispers, and Vanessa laughs.

  
When it’s all over, they walk slowly back to Vanessa’s car. 

“Do you mind driving?” Vanessa asks, looking suddenly weary and pale as they reach the car park. 

“No problem,” Charity replies, “Are you okay though? Do you need me to get you anything?”

“I’m fine, just a little tired.” Vanessa insists. 

They drive in silence for a little while, Charity glancing over every time they hit a red light and smiling at the sight of Vanessa fighting to keep her eyes open. Reaching over, she places a hand warmly on Vanessa’s thigh, squeezing gently.

“So, does this mean that I can be Johnny’s legal guardian now?” Charity finds herself asking. She’s almost certain that it’s what Vanessa had implied, but she found herself anxious to hear her say it clearly. Opening one eye, Vanessa grins. 

“I was just thinking about that, actually,” she manages to say before a yawn sneaks up on her. Rubbing her eyes, she sits up a little straighter to try and keep herself awake. 

“What do you mean thinking about it? Don’t you want me to have him? I thought you wanted him to stay with me and the kids…” 

Charity tries to keep her focus on the road as panic once again bubbles up inside her. Glancing quickly over to Vanessa, she’s confused when she sees her grinning, as excited as Moses and Johnny had been on Christmas morning. 

“Well, I was thinking… what if we don’t make you Johnny’s guardian? What if we do something a little more permanent?”

Confused, Charity spots a little side street and pulls into it quickly, parking the car up in the first space she sees. Yanking up the hand brake, she unbuckles her seat belt and turns to look at Vanessa.

“What are you talking about?” she asks, more confused than ever.

Vanessa takes a deep breath, “I want you to be Johnny’s other mum always – not just ‘if’ or ‘when’ I die, but always and forever, full stop. I want you to adopt him. I want him to be officially ours, Charity, not just mine.”

Charity is certain that her heart has stopped completely and for a split second she completely forgets how to breath. The thought that Vanessa loves her so much that she’s willing to share her only child with her is more than a little overwhelming. Charity has lost count of how many times this week Vanessa has insisted that Johnny is her whole world and the enormity of Vanessa wanting to share her whole world with her is not lost on Charity at all. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” she asks breathlessly, tears already prickling in the corner of her eyes.

“If it’s what you want, then I can’t think of anything I want more,” she insists.

Reaching up, Charity holds Vanessa’s face in both hands and kisses her hard, not trusting words to convey how ridiculously happy and honoured she feels. When she finally pulls back, Vanessa looks shocked but laughs warmly.

“I take it that was a yes?” she chuckles.  
“Of course it was a yes, you daft idiot, didn’t you hear me? Here, let me tell you again…”


	8. The Missing Coat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanessa comes home to find something missing.

She takes only a few steps into Jacob’s Fold before stopping suddenly as she lays eyes on the place for the first time in months. A shudder works its way up her spine. It looks almost exactly the same as she remembers it and yet different enough for it to feel like she’s trespassing somehow.

Charity walks straight into her, her arms too full of Vanessa’s bags to see where she’s going. Shuffling around her, she drops the bags on the floor by the sofa before pulling Vanessa into her arms.

“Welcome home,” she mumbles into her hair.

But the smell of Charity’s perfume is mingled with a different fabric conditioner and she’s wearing a shirt that she’s never seen before. It’s the same Charity, the same four walls, but too many little things are different and it makes her want to cry.

So she does.

“Hey, what’s wrong babe?” Charity asks, pulling back a little and placing a finger beneath Vanessa’s chin so she can bring her eyes up to meet her own.

“It’s nothing,” Vanessa insists. “It’s just a bit overwhelming is all.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, you smell different…” She half whispers, realising as the words tumble out just how silly it is to get upset over a different smell. Charity does stifle a giggle, but the smirk that twitches at her lips soon softens again. Lifting up one arm, she sniffs at her own armpit before shrugging.

“I definitely showered this morning,” she laughs.

“You know what I mean,” Vanessa whines, and of course Charity does. She always knows what she means.

“I didn’t know which detergent was our usual so Sarah picked this stuff up from David’s,” she explains apologetically.

Vanessa twists her hand in the fabric of Charity’s jumper, allowing her fingernails to scratch gently at the bare skin beneath it. She smiles when Charity shudders slightly.

“And the kids are…”

“… At school, yes.”

As Charity finishes her sentence, it’s as though something clicks back into place. Like someone has adjusted the lens so things are sharper and more in focus. That deep sense of belonging comes flooding back, a feeling she’d missed terribly while at her mums.

When Charity brings her palm up to Vanessa’s cheek, she leans into it instinctively, turning her head slightly so that she can brush her lips against the delicate skin of Charity’s wrist. Charity’s fingers sink into her hair, thinner than when she’d left but getting thicker again by the day. When it had started falling out, it had only been one more incentive to stay away from the village. The pity looks had been bad enough and she didn’t want people to see her with clumps of hair missing. She didn’t want Charity to see her like that, even though she knew it wouldn’t have changed anything.

“There’s something I want to show you, upstairs…” Charity whispers, pressing her lips against Vanessa’s forehead like ellipsis. There’s a coy smile on her face when Vanessa looks up to meet her eyes.

“Can I take my coat off first or…?”

Charity laughs and Vanessa slips out of the green parka and goes to hang it up. She smiles at the row of coats on hooks – Charity’s black winter coat, Noah’s hoodie and Sarah’s leather jacket. Lower down on the wall, two more hooks for Johnny and Moses’ play coats. The fact that everyone is still using the same hooks soothes her even more.

It’s not until she’s hung up her coat and slipped out of her shoes that she realises what’s missing.

“Where’s my jacket?” she calls. Charity is already halfway up the stairs with Vanessa’s bags but she pauses and leans her head over the bannister.

“What jacket?” Charity asks, doing her best to look clueless.

“My yellow jacket. My favourite.” She continues to look at the hooks, puzzled, as if she expects it to just suddenly appear.

When Charity doesn’t answer, Vanessa moves to the bottom of the stairs and looks up to find Charity looking sheepish.

“I’m just going to put these down before they break my fingers,” she says, hurrying up the stairs and disappearing into the bedroom.

Vanessa follows and finds her sitting on the bed, suitcases at her feet and wringing her hands together. Worry is etched into the lines on her forehead.

“Sarah warned me not to do it,” she mutters, more to herself than to Vanessa. Leaning against the door frame, Vanessa watches her worry her bottom lip between her teeth.

Charity doesn’t speak until Vanessa sits down next to her on the bed and leans her head onto her shoulder. She squeezes Charity’s arm encouragingly.

“They did a clothes swap you see. The whole village. Remember I told you about that? It’s where I got this shirt.”

Charity pulls at the sleeves of it and suddenly Vanessa realises why it had seemed so uncanny to see Charity wearing it.

“It’s Rhona’s!” she exclaims before promptly bursting into a fit of giggles. At least that explains that. Charity nods and smirks a little.

“But how does this explain my coat?” Vanessa asks.

She listens as Charity tells her the whole sordid tale. How her beloved jacket had been plucked from its hook at the last minute and tossed into the bag of donations. How Charity had justified it by saying Vanessa deserved a more stylish coat because she’s so gorgeous. Vanessa rolls her eyes.

“Please don’t hate me,”

Vanessa smiles softly, sliding her fingers between Charity’s where their hands rest on her knee. She rubs her thumb slowly over her knuckles.

“I could never hate you,” she says, “I love you too much.”

“I really missed you.” Charity looks like she’s about to cry. The green of her eyes shine brighter, glistening a little, and Vanessa is suddenly overwhelmed by just how flimmin beautiful she is and how much she’s missed her.

“Show me,” she husks, “Show me how much you’ve missed me.”

Like everything else, touching Charity feels both new and familiar. It doesn’t take long for them to relearn each other’s bodies, and as she feels Charity’s fingers moving inside of her for the first time in months, Vanessa finally feels like she’s come home.

****************************

“Can’t you do that later? Tracy will be dropping the boys off in half an hour.”

Vanessa laughs and ignores Charity’s whine as she continues to empty the suitcase. Out of the corner of her eye she watches Charity pout, her modesty barely covered by the duvet as she sits cross legged beneath it and watches Vanessa unpack.

The urge to unpack had come upon her while they’d been lying together. Suddenly, she’d felt the overwhelming need to have her things back where they belonged – as if by leaving them in the case for a second longer might mean she’d have to leave again.

Pulling her second bag up onto the bed, she watches Charity more closely as she pulls out the familiar item of clothing.

“How did you get that?” Charity asks, crawling across the bed and pulling the yellow jacket out of Vanessa’s hands to study it. “It looks exactly the same as your old one,” she puzzles.

“That’s because it is my old one. Lucky for you, Rhona saw it at the clothes swap and picked it up for me. She sent it to me at my mother’s.”

Charity’s jaw drops in mock offence.

“Why, you sneaky little…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. Instead she pulls Vanessa back onto the bed, pinning her down and straddling her hips. Vanessa squeals but she doesn’t even try to free herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments very much appreciated.


End file.
